This article was imported from our previous website, which many have broken some of the content. We apologize in advance for any strange formatting or broken links you may find.
It was our first date – a double date with some friends to see Colbie Caillat at the Warnors Theater. I was very excited and looked forward to it all week. I’d been planning what I was going to wear, how I would wear my hair, you know, all the girly things that go into a first date.
When I got off of work, I started to get ready. I laid out the different outfits I planned in my head and started trying them on. They hugged parts of my body I hated and didn’t make me look like a supermodel as they did in my head. They were all just wrong. I had to start from scratch, which put me into panic mode, and I hate to admit this, but this happens often to this day. Please don’t judge me.
As I always do in this kind of situation, I called my sister to ask for suggestions, and she started to list off outfits I had already tried on. Time was ticking down and the only piece of clothing I had decided on was a skirt, and I just lost it. We started yelling at one another, and I now had tears streaming down my face. In an instant, I turned into a 3 year old throwing a temper tantrum.
And then there was a knock on the door.
Now I wish I could tell you my bedroom was far enough in the back of the house that there was no way he would have heard any of this, but no, I had to have the front bedroom with the wall of windows. I got off the phone with my sister, and instead of trying to make myself look like a normal person, I decided to be brave and show my date the real, honest, ugly side of me. I walked to the door red faced and half dressed, opened it and said, “ I am not ready and am having a panic attack about it. This happens a lot, and I completely understand if you would like to just end this here.”
He smiled, handed me a Starbucks and politely responded, “Take your time. I will wait in the living room while you finish getting ready.” I just remember staring at him and thinking to myself, Who is this guy? I went back to my bedroom, finished getting ready and we had a great first date.
October is our anniversary month. I often think back to our first date and wonder how different our relationship might have been had I not been willing to show my flaws. I think it was that moment I knew he was the man I was meant to be with, because he was willing to look at the mess I was and show me grace. His grace helped me lower my walls, and have an honest and vulnerable relationship for the first time. Grace is so simple and small, and yet we forget about how powerful it really is and how a little grace can go a long way. So, to my hubs, happy five years!